


Into the Night

by Imori_Hikaru



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Cyberpunk, Established Relationship, Illegal Activities, M/M, Police, Street Racing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-27
Updated: 2020-09-27
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:21:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,167
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26672824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Imori_Hikaru/pseuds/Imori_Hikaru
Summary: As the sun goes down, the lights come on, and teams take to the streets. Competing in pairs, hackers tap into the city systems to help guide their motorcyclist partner though the streets and towards the end goal by informing them of short cuts or ways to avoid the police. Hackers pride themselves on being able to help their partners navigate the city and avoid danger, but what they do is far from safe and not exactly legal. Sometimes things go wrong… no matter how hard they try to prevent it.
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou, Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru, Kozume Kenma/Kuroo Tetsurou
Comments: 11
Kudos: 71





	Into the Night

[Saturday August 8th 00:15 || Downtown Hotel]

"Bokuto," Akaashi flipped through a few traffic cameras, still not seeing his partner. "Bokuto?" His voice was shifting towards urgent when the only sound coming through his headset was ambient static. "Bokuto, what's going on?" He tried to access the camera he'd mounted on Bokuto's bike, having lost access to his body cam, but his system couldn't connect. " _ Fuck _ ," his fingers flew over his keyboard, trying in vain to get a visual on Bokuto or get his headset to reconnect.

Kenma beside him, who was typing away at his own computer, froze. His eyes were wide and his face even more pale than usual against the glow of his screen. He looked like he was going to pass out.

"Kuro—" His voice was shaky. Akaashi glanced at him while he continued to try to find a video feed that Bokuto was on. "Kuro—” Akaashi’s eyes flicked between his own screen and Kenma. Kenma didn’t talk much during a race, unless absolutely necessary. It was even more rare for him to get flustered or panicked. “Are you sure?”

Kuroo hardly waited for his bike to come to a stop before throwing himself off it. He was used to the adrenaline rush that came with racing, but it was nothing to the adrenaline coursing through his veins as he rushed to Bokuto’s side.

“Kenma, I’m going to cut my camera—”

“ _ Don’t you dare _ .”

“Kenma, I don’t know how bad it is.”

“ _ Kuro _ ,” the sternness had slipped out of Kenma’s voice and he was now pleading. It made Kuroo pause. “Leave it on, please.”

“Okay,” Kuroo sighed. “Bokuto! Bo, hey, are you okay?” Kuroo dropped to his knees beside Bokuto. Bokuto groaned, rolling himself over slowly. “Hey, you probably shouldn’t move.” Kuroo tried, holding his hands out to stop Bokuto, but was too afraid to actually touch him.

“I’m fine,” Bokuto said, voice a tad growly as pain surged through his body. He’d been wearing a dri fit compression shirt, which was now a bit torn and sticking to his back uncomfortably as he sat up. His helmet was scuffed up, and there was a dent in the side of it.

“You’re definitely not,” Kuroo tried not to panic as he took in the angle of Bokuto’s arm. That was definitely not normal. He craned his neck a bit to see Bokuto’s back before his jacket fell back down over it, he regretted that decision almost immediately. From what he could see, Bokuto had roadburn all down his back. It wasn’t bleeding a ton, but enough to be unsettling.

Kenma barely had time to scramble to the trash can before he threw up, Akaashi sprung out of his seat to kneel beside Kenma. He rubbed circles on his back.

“Kenma?” Akaashi was concerned, assuming that Kenma was sick, before Kenma looked up at him. The look in Kenma’s eyes terrified Akaashi. His own eyes flew to Kenma’s screen where he could finally see the feed from Kuroo’s bodycam. “Oh, god…”

“I’m sorry,” Kenma managed before ducking his head back into the trash can. He could hear the sirens through his headphones. Kenma froze. “Kuroo.” It took a second but Kuroo’s voice came through.

“Yeah?”

“I know you hear them. Get on your bike, you need to get out of there.”

“I can’t leave Bo--”

“You have to.”

“Ken--”

“Leave him.” Akaashi’s voice cut through, having taken Kenma’s headset. “He’ll be fine. You can’t help him if you go to jail.”

“But--” Kuroo looked at Bokuto one last time.

“Go.” Akaashi urged one last time before Kuroo nodded at Bokuto, running back to his own motorcycle before taking off quickly. With Kuroo gone, they no longer had eyes on Bokuto. There were no traffic cams in that area and Bokuto’s cams seemed to be busted in the crash.

Kuroo didn’t like it. He hated it really. Having to leave Bokuto there on his own, but he couldn't do much about it. He just had to believe Bokuto would be fine. Akaashi was right of course, but it didn’t make him feel any better knowing how banged up Bokuto was.

They were both kissing the prize winnings goodbye, but at least they had their payouts from their sponsors. Not that Kuroo cared about the money right now. From what he could see Bokuto was going to need medical attention. A good deal of it too.

[15:30 || Hospital]

"Bokuto?" Akaashi had knocked before cracking open the door to Bokuto's hospital room. He peered around the door nervously.

"Akaashi!" Bokuto tried to sit up to get a better view of Akaashi but winced and gingerly laid back against the pillow on his bed.

"How are you feeling?" Akaashi asked, stepping up to the side of the hospital bed.

"Fine," Bokuto smiled up at Akaashi. "It looks worse than it is. I'm fine, really." Akaashi quirked a brow at Bokuto.

"Fine? Yes, breaking your arm and practically skinning your back is just fine," he quipped sarcastically.

"It doesn't really hurt--"

"Bokuto." Bokuto instantly stopped trying to be convincing, the tone Akaashi used not quite sitting right with him. "It's okay to admit that you're in pain."

"I'm sure I will be, but for now they've got decent pain medication going." He gestured vaguely at the IV he had in his arm.

"That's..." Akaashi took in the bruising and scrapes that were visible to him, "good."

"Hey," Bokuto reached up with his good arm, swiping away a stray tear from Akaashi's cheek. "Don't cry. Everything's just fine," Bokuto smiled softly at Akaashi. He wondered how much he'd actually heard about his injuries. From the look on Akaashi's face, he was surely blaming himself for the accident, even though it absolutely was not his fault. "Did you talk to Kuroo?" Akaashi nodded, not trusting his voice.

Akaashi ended up having to step out not long after that so the doctor could evaluate Bokuto again to see if he was going to be alright for discharge. Luckily, everything seemed to be in order, so he would be free to go home as soon as he finished up some paperwork. That at least made Akaashi feel a little better. Being discharged so soon meant that he wasn't in too bad of condition.

[Tuesday August 25th 02:50 || Hotel Outside of Town]

"Oh, bite me," Kenma chuffed, irritated with Kuroo.

"Oh, I will, don't worry." Kenma could practically hear the stupid little eyebrow dance he was sure Kuroo did.

"Focus, Kuro," Kenma reminded him.

"Yeah, yeah. Focus on the road, I know."

"It wouldn't hurt to also focus on the other vehicles and any pedestrians."

"How about we don't backseat drive?"

"Kuro, that's literally why I'm here. To tell you where to go and when."

"Want to switch places?" Kuroo offered, knowing how Kenma felt about the idea of getting on a motorcycle. He'd rather hang out with Lev, well, no, maybe not. He might get on a motorcycle if it meant getting out of spending time with the loud half-russian. 

“I want you to pay attention. You nearly hit that car!” Kenma sighed. “Take the next right. It’s a longer route, but there’s less traffic.” Kuroo obeyed, making a sharp right turn into a side road.

Kenma finally felt as though he was able to breathe once he watched Kuroo cross the finish line. He hadn't won, but Kenma was just happy Kuroo made it out in one piece. After Bokuto’s accident, Kenma had been more on edge with this than usual.

[Thursday September 24th 12:00 || Hospital Lobby]

Oikawa's eyes narrowed at the guy across from him in the waiting room. He looked so familiar, but he just couldn't place him. The guy was grinning at his phone, typing something quickly before his eyes shifted up to meet Oikawa's. Oikawa wanted to look away, but instead his body froze. Expressive yellow eyes locked onto his. 

"Hi," the grin he was wearing was smaller now, but definitely still there. Had their positions been reversed Oikawa would have been angry, or at least annoyed, by the staring, but if this guy felt that way his expression didn’t reflect that.

"Do I know you?" Oikawa asked, skipping the pleasantries. He would be called back any moment and it was going to drive him crazy if he didn’t figure out why he recognized this guy. He blinked owlishly at him.

"Do you?" His head tipped to the side and his brows furrowed as he seemed to consider the question. "I don’t think so," he decided after a moment. Oikawa's mouth opened, ready to ask if he was sure, but the guy's phone rang, cutting him off. "Akaashi!" He chirped happily, and a little too loudly. His smile stretched wide again and Oikawa finally figured it out.  _ Akaashi _ . He recognized the name. Akaashi Kenji, who partnered up with an energetic guy named Bokuto for street racing. That's why Oikawa recognized this guy. He'd raced against him a few times, and Bokuto was there the day Oikawa got hurt. Bokuto had thrown the race in order to stop and help Oikawa after his crash.

Oikawa didn’t get a chance to pester or thank Bokuto, having been called back by a nurse. His eyes lingered on him, the joyful expression on Bokuto’s face as he chattered to Akaashi. Bokuto’s arm was in a cast that started at his upper bicep. It looked uncomfortable. Oikawa vaguely wondered what caused that and how bad it was.

[Friday September 25th 18:25 || Bokuto’s Apartment]

“Are you happy to have the cast off?” Kuroo asked, leaning back against Bokuto’s couch. Bokuto grinned.

“It was really itchy,” Bokuto informed him, nodding that he was happy to have the cast off finally. He wasn't completely healed yet, but at least he didn’t have the cast. He could manage with a brace and a sling. It was an improvement.

“Did you hear back from Iwaizumi?” Akaashi asked, sitting down on the arm of the chair Kenma was curled up in. Bokuto nodded.

“He said he was finally able to take a look at the damages. He said it’s salvageable.”

“Oh?” Akaashi tipped his head to the side. He’d been the one to recommend taking Bokuto’s ruined bike to Iwaizumi. He was probably the best out there for repairs. Bokuto nodded again.

“I’m supposed to meet him at the shop in a few days to talk about time estimates and costs.” Akaashi hummed softly. 

[Monday September 28th 13:40 || Iwaizumi’s Garage]

“Hey! Do you race?” Bokuto asked curiously, his arm nestled against his chest in its sling. Oikawa quirked a brow at him from where he was perched on a tool bench. Iwaizumi didn’t even look up from where he was hunched over the damaged bike.

“No,” he grunted. His wrench clanked against something before he straightened back up. His tank top had rolled up slightly while he was working. He pulled it back down into place, much to Oikawa’s displeasure. He’d been enjoying the view.

“Really?” Bokuto asked, walked around his bike. It looked better than it had, but still needed some work. Iwaizumi shrugged.

“I have, but it’s not really my thing.” He gestured vaguely towards his various tools. “This is.” Bokuto smiled, his expression making something in Oikawa’s stomach twist uncomfortably.

“There’s a race coming up—”

“He said he doesn’t race,” Oikawa butted in, hoping off the tool bench and crossing his arms over his chest. Iwaizumi’s nose scrunched at the bridge, staring at Oikawa for a long moment before turning back to Bokuto.

“My friend is racing. We usually go out together, but since I won’t be ready—”

“This isn’t exactly a team sport,” Oikawa snapped, earning him a look of warning from Iwaizumi.

“I’ve already been bought in,” Bokuto continued, his eyes on Oikawa this time rather than Iwaizumi.

“So rather than scratch, you want someone to take your place,” Iwaizumi finished for him, wiping his hands off on a dirty rag. 

“Exactly!” Bokuto grinned. Oikawa rolled his eyes.

“Sure,” Iwaizumi shrugged again, Oikawa’s body went rigid. “You have my number, just text me when and where and I’ll be there.”

“Great!” Bokuto’s smiled, but it faltered slightly. “I’m sure Akaashi won’t mind partnering up with you—”

“Thanks, but I’ve got a partner.”

“Oh, cool,” Bokuto nodded, relaxing, clearly satisfied with this answer. “I’ll text you the deets later then.” With that, Bokuto waved and made his way out of the garage. Once Bokuto was out of earshot, Oikawa set his sights on Iwaizumi. Iwaizumi seemed unbothered by this, having gone back to tinkering with Bokuto’s busted bike.

“What the hell was that?”

“What was what?”

“You’re not taking his place,” Oikawa bit out. “And who the hell is this  _ partner _ of yours?” As far as Oikawa knew, Iwaizumi hadn’t actually raced since they were teenagers. It was never his scene. He preferred the mechanical side of it, building or repairing the bikes, not competing. Iwaizumi’s brows shot towards his hairline, his eyes wandering over Oikawa’s pinched expression and tense body language.

He wiped his hands off again, shoving the rag half into the back pocket of his jeans. He closed the distance between himself and Oikawa, forcing Oikawa to take a few steps back until he bumped into the bench he’d been sitting on before. Iwaizumi’s hands planted themselves on either side of the table, trapping Oikawa where he was.

_'_ Hm, my boyfriend happens to be very experienced. I figured he wouldn’t mind helping me out,” Iwaizumi explained smoothly, his voice dropping just a touch lower than normal. Oikawa scoffed softly.

“Maybe your boyfriend doesn’t want to help you,” Oikawa challenged.

“Yeah?” Iwaizumi’s lips quirked up on one side. “Shame. Guess I’ll have to find someone else.” A growl started to build in the back of Oikawa’s throat, irritated that Iwaizumi was considering taking Bokuto’s place at all. Threatening to find someone else to partner with was just extra fuel for the fire.

Before Oikawa could snap at him again, Iwaizumi found his lips. Oikawa tried to resist the kiss for half a second but couldn’t resist Iwaizumi for long. As he felt Oikawa relax against him, Iwaizumi managed to lift Oikawa slightly and deposit him onto the tool bench without breaking the kiss. Oikawa would be pissed about this later, but Iwaizumi knew he won this argument already.

[20:35 || Akaashi’s Apartment]

Bokuto was sprawled out across Akaashi’s couch, Akaashi was sitting on the floor, leaning against it.

“Oh, I forgot to tell you, I found someone to take my place,” Bokuto said, his eyes locked onto the TV. Akaashi twisted himself around to look at Bokuto.

“Who?”

“Iwaizumi, the guy who’s doing my bike repairs.” Akaashi stared at Bokuto for a long moment, before Bokuto’s eyes shifted from the TV to meet Akaashi’s. “What?”

“Bokuto?” There was a hint of hesitation in Akaashi’s voice.

“Yeah?”

“Why don’t you retire? From racing I mean.” Akaashi didn’t look at Bokuto, worried at what he might read on his face if he did.

“Hm, I suppose I could,” Bokuto mused. Akaashi’s head snapped up to look at Bokuto. He expected a fight, some resistance at least. Bokuto’s brows knit together as he thought it over. “But I can’t just quit. What about Kuroo?”

“What about him?” Akaashi asked.

“I can’t just abandon him, ya know? We started this together...” Bokuto frowned. Akaashi hummed at the reasoning, dropping the subject for the time being.

[Wednesday October 15th 01:10 || Downtown Hotel]

"Shit," Kuroo bit out.

"What?" Kenma asked, just starting to get his equipment set up.

"Someone tipped off the cops."

"What?" Kenma asked again. "How do you know?"

"Because they're here. Hold on, I'm coming to get you."

"No, just get out of there. I'm fine. They don't know I'm here."

"They might. They've sent a few guys into nearby buildings." Kuroo watched carefully, looking for his opening to get out without getting caught.

Kenma always picked buildings a little further away from the starting line than most, but depending on the tech the cops, they might be able to trace him. The second he saw the opportunity, Kuroo revved it and shot off into the night. He heard yelling behind him, presumably officers that were less than pleased about his getaway. He didn't doubt that they would follow, but he had a head start. He just needed to grab Kenma and get out of there.

"I'm close, are you ready?"

"No." Kenma answered honestly. He would never be ready to get on the back of that death trap. Regardless, he'd stuffed his gear into his backpack and ran down the few flights of stairs to meet Kuroo curbside.

"Too bad."

"Kuro--"

"Get on," Kenma's hair whipped around as Kuroo's bike jarred to a stop in front of him. He only hesitated for a moment before he heard the sirens in the distance. He didn't know that they were after Kuroo necessarily, but he wasn't about to risk it. He swung one leg over and wrapped his arms around Kuroo's midsection as tightly as he could. Kuroo might not be able to breathe, but that was a sacrifice they were going to have to make.

Under any other circumstances, Kuroo would have taken the time to take off his helmet and give it to Kenma instead, but unfortunately, there wasn't time for that. He'd be as careful as he could, but he needed to go pretty quickly in order to get them both out of this situation.

Kenma's eyes were squeezed shut, cheek pressed firmly to Kuroo's back as the wind blew his hair around.

"Are you okay?" Kuroo's voice was calming in his ear. Kenma might find Kuroo irritating at times, but right now, having the ability to communicate despite the loud wind rushing by them was the best thing he could ask for.

"Yeah," Kuroo could barely hear the response over the feedback of the wind on the mic, but there was strain and fear in that one word. It would have to do. He didn't blame Kenma for being scared.

[Thirteen Years Prior]

_ They heard it before they saw it. Metal on metal and the thud of the body hit the road. Kenma’s back was to the road, but he turned on instinct. His eyes immediately flew open wide in horror. There was another crunch as the car’s back wheels went over the already crushed motorcycle. The driver didn’t stop, if anything they picked up speed as they disappeared down the road. _

_ Kuroo grabbed Kenma’s shoulders, turning him back away from the road and back towards him. It was too late. Kenma had already seen it. The image was burned into the back of his eyelids. The motorcycle didn’t resemble much of a motorcycle at this point. The metal was twisted and mangled almost beyond recognition. However, that wasn’t the worst part. _

_ There was so much blood. It was soaking into the pavement. The rider’s helmet came off and it rolled to a stop a few feet from where Kenma and Kuroo were standing. Kenma turned his head from where Kuroo had it pressed into his chest to look at the object. A garbled cough made him turn his head further to look at the limp body in the road. _

_ Whoever it was, they were struggling to breath, their body just as mangled as their bike. Kuroo squeezed his eyes shut, turning his head away from the scene in front of them. Kenma kept his eyes on them for a few more seconds, long enough to see them try and lift their head. Their pained eyes met Kenma’s. Kenma let out a little sound before he tucked his face back into Kuroo’s chest. _

_ It took a few minutes for the police and ambulance to get there, though it felt like an eternity. At some point, an adult had come and directed Kuroo and Kenma away from the road. They kept asking if they were alright, one checked over the two of them to make sure they hadn’t gotten hit by anything in the collision. They kept their heads down, answers short, and eyes away from the no longer moving body. _

_ They ended up having to be questioned about what they saw. Kuroo remembered a partial plate of the car, but overall, they weren’t a whole lot of help. Kenma wouldn’t speak to the officer, only nodding or shaking his head and letting Kuroo do the talking. Once the officer was done with them, he offered to drive them home. _

_ Kenma’s mother was waiting for them when the officer dropped them off. She had concern etched in her features, despite knowing they were both okay since she’d been called prior to the police taking their statements. He took a moment to speak to her in a hushed tone before departing. _

_ She pulled both boys in for a hug, a hand on the back of each of their heads. She didn’t say anything. Neither did they. The three stood there for a long moment before the boys finally pulled away silently and disappeared up to Kenma’s bedroom. _

[Five Years Later]

_ “Check it out,” Kuroo held out his phone for Kenma to see the screen. _

_ “A motorcycle?” Kenma asked, not sure why Kuroo was showing him this. _

_ “Not just any motorcycle. My motorcycle.” Kuroo announced proudly. He had a shit eating grin on his face, until he saw the look in Kenma’s eyes and watched the color drain from his face. “What?” _

_ “Your—” Kenma couldn’t get the word out. _

_ “Yeah?” Kuroo said slowly, unsure why Kenma looked like he wanted to throw up. It clicked about three seconds later. “Oh.” Was all he could say. He bit his lower lip and tucked his phone back into his pocket. _

[02:00 || Kuroo and Kenma’s House]

Kuroo rounded the corner sharply, feeling Kenma's fingers dig in further to his midsection. He came to a halt behind their house. Kuroo yanked off his helmet.

"Don't ever make me do that again." Kenma's voice was shaky as his feet met the ground again. His legs felt like jelly. He grabbed onto the sleeve of Kuroo's jacket for support. Kuroo swung his leg over the bike, pulling Kenma against his chest.

"I'm sorry," he whispered into Kenma's now tousled hair, "but I wasn't about to leave you there to get arrested." Kenma shrugged within his arms. "You'd get in more trouble than I would." Kuroo put himself at the most physical risk, weaving in and out of traffic and at much too high of speeds, but Kenma was at the most legal risk. Hacking into federal systems would be a life sentence. Kenma was good at covering his tracks, but Kuroo wasn't about to risk it.

"Can we—" Kuroo pulled back enough to look at Kenma, ready to do whatever he needed to make Kenma feel better. "Can we order take out?" Kuroo snorted softly, ruffling Kenma's hair. There were only a handful of places open at this hour.

"Yeah, sounds good."

Kuroo ordered food while Kenma curled up on the couch with a handheld game console. When Kuroo eventually joined him, he realized Kenma was still shaking. He didn't want to push the issue, but he knew Kenma was more affected by the ride than he wanted Kuroo to know.

[Tuesday October 20th 10:20 || Iwaizumi’s Garage]

Iwaizumi pulled a dusty tarp off the motorcycle in the corner of his garage. He ran his fingers over the smooth white surface. You couldn’t even tell where the paint had scraped off when it skid across the pavement. Iwaizumi had taken so long to fix it up. It hadn’t even been that beat up. Just a few scrapes and damage to the original paint job. Of course, part of the wait was finally stomaching looking at it and washing off the blood that lingered on it after the accident.

Oikawa told him to sell it, but Iwaizumi couldn’t. Oikawa didn’t look like he meant it. He was upset, confined to a hospital bed. He didn’t really mean it. Iwaizumi was sure that he didn’t. Even now, a year and a half after, Iwaizumi was sure that Oikawa didn’t really want to get rid of it.

Iwaizumi sucked in a shallow breath before fishing the keys out of his pocket. Something told him that if he was going to do this, he wanted to do it with Oikawa’s bike. He wasn’t sure how Oikawa would feel about it. Oikawa already didn’t want Iwaizumi to fill in for Bokuto, but it felt right. Iwaizumi wasn’t sure why, but it did.

[Two Years Prior]

_ Iwaizumi had been in his shop, working on a vintage bike when his phone rang. He ignored it the first time, but it rang again. Kageyama’s name lit up the screen. He answered it, wondering if Oikawa’s phone had died. _

_ “Iwa--Iwaizumi?” Kageyama sounded unsure. He was never unsure. Iwaizumi froze. _

_ “Kageyama?” _

_ “I’m sorry. I’m sorry…” Kageyama kept apologizing, like a mantra, until Iwaizumi practically yelled at him to stop. _

_ “What’s going on?” _

_ “Oikawa--” _

_ “Is he okay?” Iwaizumi interrupted. There was a pause. _

_ “No,” Kageyama answered honestly, his voice dripping with regret. “Someone sideswiped him. He crashed.” Kageyama paused to suck in a deep breath. Iwaizumi was still holding his. His ears were ringing. “He’s on his way to the hospital right now. He was pinned. From what I could see there was a fire. Someone stopped to help him, but it looked bad.” _

[Wednesday October 21th 02:15 || Motel Outside of Town]

Oikawa sucked in a deep breath as he saw Iwaizumi round the corner on the traffic camera. He found himself holding his breath every time he lost sight of him. Being able to see Iwaizumi always made him feel better, even though he rationally knew that just because he could see him didn’t mean that he was safe or that Oikawa could help him should something go wrong. The bottom line is that when riders are out there, they're on their own. Oikawa can tell Iwaizumi where shortcuts are or where traffic is the thinnest, but he can’t prevent accidents.

Honestly, Oikawa missed the feeling of being out there. The feel of the wind or the glow of the lights as he wove his way through the streets. Being behind a screen was completely different. He had always been grateful for Kageyama and his calm, collected tone, and he was sure Iwaizumi felt the same about him, but Oikawa felt useless.

He hadn’t been on a bike since the day of his crash. Since someone forced him off the road and he ended up with torn ligaments in his knee after being pinned under his motorcycle. He’d had minor burns at the time as well, but Bokuto managed to pull him out from under the bike before they got too severe. He was lucky he made it out with just a knee injury, he knew that, but it made him sick to think about anything happening to Iwaizumi.

The distinct white and teal of Oikawa’s bike whizzed by on another camera and he tried to refocus. Oikawa tapped a few keys before telling Iwaizumi to cut through an alley on his right before the next stoplight.

[03:45 || Iwaizumi’s Garage]

"I'm so mad at you," Oikawa grumbled, pulling Iwaizumi in for a hug. Iwaizumi laughed, hugging Oikawa back tightly.

"Why? Because I won?" He had a lopsided grin on his face. Oikawa simultaneously wanted to kiss him and smack him.

"No, because you're so fucking reckless! You know how worried I was?"

"You were watching me the whole time," Iwaizumi pulled Oikawa back in for another hug.

"I was still worried," Oikawa whispered. Iwaizumi pressed a kiss to Oikawa's neck.

"Well, I'm here now and I'm alright."

"Yeah."

"And I won," Iwaizumi said again with a wink. He didn't really expect that. He just was meant to be a placeholder for Bokuto, but winning was a nice bonus.

"Yeah," Oikawa smiled gently. "You did."

"Not cool man," Kuroo huffed with amusement in his tone as he walked into Iwaizumi’s garage. "You couldn't have let me take this one?"

"Sorry, man." Iwaizumi shrugged. Oikawa nudged him with his hip.

"Bokuto's probably ticked that he missed out on the fun," Kuroo laughed. Iwaizumi dropped a hand on Kuroo’s shoulder, whispering something to him. Oikawa watched the interaction, but didn’t ask questions as they two men stepped outside.

[14:00 || Iwaizumi and Oikawa’s House]

“So, why did you do it?” Oikawa asked, taking his glasses off and putting them on the coffee table.

“Do what?” Iwaizumi asked, settling back into the cushions of the couch. Oikawa gave him a look.

“Why did you take Bokuto’s place?”

“Well,” Iwaizumi met Oikawa’s eyes and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, “how much do you remember from after your accident?” It was an unspoken rule between them to not talk about the accident, as it usually upset them both, so it caught Oikawa off guard for Iwaizumi to bring it up. He opened his mouth to respond, but Iwaizumi cut him off. “I mean the immediate time after. The first two weeks after.” Oikawa bit his lower lip trying to recall that time period. A few silent moments ticked by and Oikawa realized Iwaizumi was asking because he likely wouldn’t remember.  
“I don’t,” he admitted. Iwaizumi nodded.

“You were pretty drugged up, but you were slated for another two races in that time.” Iwaizumi held Oikawa’s gaze, watching for his reaction.

“Okay,” Oikawa said slowly.

“You know what happens when someone is a no show for a race right?”

It wasn’t so simple as a bunch of guys getting on motorcycles and street racing at night. More often than not there were sponsors involved. Someone would buy a racer in. Oikawa had been decent, pulling off a fair amount of wins, and that meant he had quite a few people willing to bet on him in a race and pay him to show up. That’s why they did what they did most of the time. Winning wasn’t a guarantee, but racers got money for just showing up if a sponsor had bought them in. A no show led to complications, and often led to heavy fines or whoever sponsored you ratting you out to the authorities for illegal racing and gambling.

“Depends on who’s paying for you to be there,” Oikawa shrugged. Not sure where Iwaizumi was going with this.

“You were a no show, and your sponsor came sniffing around. You were still in the hospital at that point, so he didn’t find you. He found me. I smoothed things over,” Oikawa tried to interrupt, to ask what exactly Iwaizumi did to get him out of trouble, but Iwaizumi put his hand up and continued on. “What and how I managed that isn’t important, but I had to track someone down to step in for your next race. I wasn’t going to pull it off a second time, but I managed to get someone to take your place for the next one.”

“So Bokuto--”

“Bokuto needed someone to take his place. I don’t know who was paying him to show up, and I didn’t ask. I didn’t care, I still don’t care. It doesn’t matter. I told him to keep whatever he was paid for it. But I know how hard it is to find someone to replace you, especially on short notice. More often than not, most people you may happen to know or can get in contact with are already bought in. After knowing what I do from your injury and not showing up, I wasn’t going to make him go through that.” Oikawa nodded in understanding.

“What did you talk to Kuroo about?”

“The prize money.” Iwaizumi would have been content to leave it at that, but it was clear that Oikawa wasn’t about to drop the subject. “I asked Kuroo for Bokuto’s information. I wired the winnings to him.” Oikawa blinked at him in confusion. Iwaizumi shrugged. “I figured he could use it for his medical bills.”

Oikawa didn’t say anything, he just moved to drape himself over Iwaizumi. Iwaizumi shifted, making it more comfortable for both of them as they settled in. Iwaizumi ended up falling asleep, but Oikawa lay awake, listening to the soft snores from Iwaizumi.

[Saturday October 24th 20:30 || Downtown Bar]

Oikawa snorted into his drink, laughing at something Iwaizumi had said. In the end, it had been Oikawa’s idea that they go out to celebrate Iwaizumi’s win. He might not have liked it, but he was proud of Iwaizumi. He thought he was incredible.

“I’ll be right back,” Iwaizumi whispered into Oikawa’s ear. “Gotta take a leak.” Oikawa’s nose wrinkled at the bridge.

“So crude, Iwa-chan.” He earned a chuckle from Iwaizumi as he walked off into the crowd of the bar.

Iwaizumi had practically just gotten up when another man slid onto the stool he'd just been occupying. Oikawa was lazily swirling his drink around in its glass and his eyes slid over to the newcomer.

"Sorry, that seat's taken." Oikawa offered a half smile. The man didn't move, instead his eyes scanned Oikawa and the man leaned closer.

"I've got an offer for you." It took everything in Oikawa to not grimace. His breath was rancid and heavy with alcohol. "Ten thousand."

"I'm sorry?" Oikawa blinked at the man. His eyes landed on his watch and the various rings adorning his fingers. Dread bubbled in his throat.

"There's already bidders lining up to bet on your next win."

"I'm retired," Oikawa said simply, taking a sip from his drink.

"You made quite the triumphant return. I'll text you with the details," the man grinned. Oikawa gaped at him.

"He said he's retired." Iwaizumi's arms were crossed firmly over his chest as he glared at the man. Oikawa sagged in relief to see him. "You'll have to find someone else, old man."

"No," he said frankly, glaring at Iwaizumi. "I don't think so."

"He said no," Iwaizumi's voice was hard. He simply wanted to shut this conversation down, but then the man grabbed Oikawa’s arm. Oikawa yelped and Iwaizuni snapped. His fist was colliding with the man's face before he could even wrap his head around what he was about to do. Of course, there was retaliation.

Iwaizumi stumbled into a table, spilling an abandoned glass of melting ice, after being hit squarely in the jaw. Oikawa gasped, eyes immediately going to the scratches that were already bleeding. Iwaizumi didn't even seem phased by the fact that blood was dripping onto his shirt. He glared at the sponsor who'd approached Oikawa.

More fists were thrown, a table was broken, and finally cops were on the scene breaking up the fight.

Oikawa tried to step in, but earned a growl from Iwaizumi. Something about not needing them both to get in trouble over it. Oikawa was horrified as he watched handcuffs close around Iwaizumi’s wrists. He wanted to run after him as the cops led him away, but his feet were rooted on the polished floorboards of the bar. Bail. He needed to post bail. His fingers were numb as he fumbled for his phone.

Kuroo pulled up thirty minutes later. Oikawa yanked open the door of his car and got in. He sighed as he melted against the cool leather of his seat.

"So what exactly happened?" Kuroo asked as he shifted gears and eased his car in the direction of the police station. Oikawa sighed again.

"A sponsor approached me, wouldn't take no for an answer, and Iwaizumi punched him."

"Shit, for real?" Bokuto asked from the back seat, Oikawa squealed. His hands flying to his chest and he whipped around to stare wide-eyed at Bokuto and Akaashi.

"Holy fuck, how long have you been there?" Oikawa gasped. Akaadhi blinked and tipped his head to the side.

"Since Kuroo picked us up," he answered seriously. Kuroo huffed a laugh from the behind the wheel.

"A sponsor approached you, not only in person, but in public?" Kuroo asked, bringing the conversation back to the issue at hand. Normally, if a sponsor wanted to buy a racer in, they'd make contact through anonymous digital channels. It was safer than being seen in public together. Oikawa shrugged.

"So it would seem."

"Weird," Kuroo mumbled, biting into the inside of his cheek as he mulled it over. Bokuto pried more details from Oikawa for the remainder of the ride. Once they pulled up to the station, everyone got quiet. They stared at the building for a few minutes.

"I guess I'll be right back," Oikawa said slowly. He swallowed thickly and clambered out of the vehicle. He only took about two steps before he heard a car door close behind him. Kuroo was following him. They didn't speak, but Oikawa was silently thankful for the extra presence. He wasn't particularly fond of police stations given his history with illegal street racing.

Oikawa grumbled angrily as he tapped his foot, arms crossed. Paperwork was done, money had changed hands, and after a but of bickering, all they had to do was wait for them to get Iwaizumi. It only took a few minutes, but Oikawa insisted it was forever.

“Hey,” Oikawa said softly, practically melting with relief the second he saw Iwaizumi. Kuroo winced, taking in Iwaizumi’s bruised, busted up face.

“Thanks for bringing him,” Iwaizumi said to Kuroo, it looked like he tried to smile, but it looked a bit more like a grimace than anything. Kuroo nodded solemnly.

“Of course.”

“Are you okay?” Oikawa’s hands hovered just above the swollen half of Iwaizumi’s jaw. Iwaizumi quirked a brow at him.

“Never better.” He grinned, reminding Oikawa of when they were kids. “I broke the asshole’s nose.” Kuroo snorted, clapping Iwaizumi on the shoulder as the trio made their way out.

[Sunday October 25th 11:20 || Kuro and Kenma’s House]

"Kuro?"

"Ngh?" Kuroo was half asleep, enjoying the steady rhythm of Kenma's heartbeat under his ear. Kenma raked a hand through Kuroo's already messy hair, it only made Kuroo sleepier.

"Do you like racing?"

"Hmn," Kuroo tried to bury his face into Kenma's chest. Kenma used the hand tangled in Kuroo's hair to force him to look at him.

"It's fun for you, right?" The look in Kenma's eyes made Kuroo's stomach twist. It made him uneasy. He couldn't quite put his finger on why, but it did.

"Sure," Kuroo answered, feeling more awake now. "The adrenaline rush is amazing, but it's scary too. We've both seen what can happen, whether you're careful or not. Not to mention it puts you at risk too."

"That's not what I asked." Kenma resumed running his hands through Kuroo's hair. Kuroo's mouth popped open to say something, but Kenma cut him off. "No half answers either. It's a yes or no question. Either you like it or you don't."

"But there are some things I like about it and some that I don't," Kuroo countered.

"No half answers," Kenma reaffirmed. Kuroo got quiet after that, taking the time to think over his answer. He made a mental list of the pros and cons and what he liked and disliked. It was pretty obvious which way he was leaning when he laid it out that way. The negatives and uncertainties far outweighed the benefits in his mind.

"No," he finally said after a long while. Kenma didn't say anything, he just nodded and stroked his hair more. "Why?"

"Just curious."

"Bullshit," Kuroo sat up, Kenma accidentally pulling his hair in the process. "What's going on in that head of yours, Kenma?" Kenma shrugged, looking away from Kuroo. "Talk to me," Kuroo said softer this time, his hand catching Kenma's jaw to gently force him to look him in the eye.

"If you said yes, it would be harder to talk you out of quitting," Kenma admitted. Kuroo's brows furrowed.

"If you told me to quit right now I would."

"Would you though?" Kenma asked. He genuinely didn't think so.

"Of course."

"I asked you to quit when we were in high school. You didn't then," Kenma pointed out. In fact, he'd asked Kuroo to not even start, then asked him to stop after almost every race they did, but Kuroo insisted on continuing. "What's different now?"

"Well, for one," Kuroo said, his hand cupping Kenma's cheek. "I didn't fully realize the position it puts you in back then." Kuroo kissed Kenma's nose. "And you're more important than any adrenaline rush or paycheck."

"Paycheck?" Kenma parrotted, latching onto that one bit. Kuroo groaned inwardly and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"I'm not a freeloader, okay? If I wanted to pay my half of the bills, I needed some way to bring in more than my shitty job."

"Kuro--"

"I know, Kenma." He did know. "But I'm stubborn, okay? I didn't want to rely on you any more than I needed to."

"So instead you'd rather make me sick with worry?" Kenma counters, his voice harsher than he intended it to be. Kuroo winced, guilt washing over him.

“I’m sorry,” Kuroo muttered, not meeting Kenma’s eyes.

[Thursday October 29th 03:50 || Downtown Hotel]

Kenma frowned, tapping into a dash cam of a police car. Traffic in the area wasn't bad, weaving through it would be no issue for Kuroo, but the cops would be an issue.

"Kuro, take the next left." There was a silence followed by a bit of crackling from Kuroo's end.

"Isn't that a longer path?" He asked. Kenma sighed.

"Yes, but it’s either lose a few seconds or have the cops on your tail," he explained. Kuroo didn't respond, but Kenma could see that even while he was questioning the call, he'd made the turn and was going the long way around the area.

There was a knock at the door and Kenma froze. His eyes slowly slid to the door. He was currently set up in a hotel, not one he'd ever been to before.

“Kuro,” Kenma hissed.

“What?” Kuroo asked, narrowly avoiding a car. There was another knock. Harder this time.”

“Police, open up!” A deep voice commanded through the door. Kenma’s blood ran cold as he stood up. He haphazardly began throwing gear into his backpack.

“Kenma?” Kuroo asked.

“I’ve got to go.” Kenma rasped, ripping off his headgear and adding it to the bag. He heard Kuroo beginning to ask what was going on, but he didn’t wait around to explain. He yanked open the doors to the little balcony attached to the room. This was a stupid idea. Part of Kenma wanted to just open the doors and let the police take him. At least that wouldn’t risk breaking his limbs.

He climbed over the railing and tried to lower himself to the balcony below. He couldn’t reach and was going to have to let himself drop and hope he managed to grab the railing. Trying not to think about the outcome should he mess this up, Kenma let go. The fall was short, and he managed to grab the railing, shockingly with both hands.

His heart hammered in his chest while he climbed over the railing and entered the room. It was one extreme to the other when his heart stopped, seeing the form of a person under the covers in the room. Kenma willed his feet to keep moving. He tiptoed out of the room, letting the door click shut softly before taking off in a full sprint to the stairwell.

This was probably the worst position Kenma could be in. He didn’t stop running. Even after he was out of the building and onto the street. He needed as much distance between himself and the cops. He’d get far more jail time than Kuroo and anyone else actually racing. He was the one hacking government systems after all.

[07:20 || Bokuto’s Apartment]

The door slammed loudly against the wall and Kuroo burst into Bokuto’s apartment, startling both Bokuto and Akaashi, who were sitting on the couch. Kuroo was panting, having ran up the stairs, hardly taking the time to park his bike before rushing up.

“Fuck, dude, I know you have keys, but you could at least try to knock,” Bokuto snapped without any real heat. Akaashi had been surprised, but his expression quickly shifted to concern when he took in the crazed look on Kuroo’s face. He got up quickly, jostling Bokuto and making him grumble in vague irritation. 

“Kuroo?” Akaashi put his hands out, approaching him like he would a scared animal. “Take a deep breath. What’s wrong?” It took a few moments of rapid breathing before Kuroo was able to force the words out.

“Kenma’s gone.”

“Gone?” Bokuto parroted, on his feet and peeking around Akaashi at Kuroo.

“He’s gone,” Kuroo whimpered, the anger and fear finally getting the better of him. Tears spilled down his cheeks. “I wasn’t there, I don’t--” Kuroo hiccuped, his knees giving out. He fell into a heap in the open doorway, hands covering his face. Akaashi was by his side instantly, a gentle hand on his trembling shoulder.

“Kuroo,” he said softly. “Take some time to calm down, alright? I’ll make you some tea and then you can tell us what happened.” There was no room for argument in his voice, despite the gentle quality. Bokuto stood awkwardly in the middle of the room while Akaashi guided Kuroo from the floor and to the couch. Bokuto hadn’t ever seen Kuroo cry like this. He wasn’t sure what to do.

It took a while. Kuroo stayed folded over on himself until the tea Akaashi had made was lukewarm. He didn’t want it, but he drank it anyway. To clear the lump still building in his throat, if nothing else. Once the tea was gone, Kuroo had nothing left to avoid talking about things. He pitifully explained what he’d heard, and that by the time he got there, Kenma was gone and there was no sign of him anywhere.

“You’re sure you heard the police?” Akaashi asked. Kuroo nodded weakly. It was faint, but he definitely heard it before Kenma’s line went dead.

“What do we do?” Bokuto finally said, having been silent the whole time. His words were hollow. There really wasn’t anything they could do, they knew that. Bail wouldn’t even be an option for someone who was caught hacking into government systems. They couldn’t just walk into the police station and get him out like they did with Iwaizumi. They couldn’t even ask if he was there, that would give away that they knew what he had been doing when the police showed up. That would make them accomplices.

“It’s all my fault,” Kuroo whispered hoarsely.

[Friday October 30th 13:55 || Kuroo and Kenma’s House]

Akaashi sat quietly at the kitchen table, watching Kuroo’s shallow breaths as he slept on the couch. He’d been up all night, worried sick about Kenma. Bokuto stayed back at his place while Akaashi drove Kuroo home, leaving his bike at Bokuto’s apartment. He didn’t trust Kuroo to drive while he was so upset.

He made lunch, in hopes that Kuroo would at least try to eat something, but by the time it was finished he turned around and it seemed Kuroo finally passed out from emotional exhaustion. He decided it was better for him to sleep for now. He could force some food into him once he woke up.

Akaashi froze, having wandered outside to take out the trash. He heard rustling. He vaguely wondered if Kuroo had woken up, but what the heck was he doing out here?

“Kuroo?” Akaashi called. He dropped the trash off and turned to the source of the sound. His blood ran cold when he saw Kenma stumble out of the treeline. “Kenma?” He looked terrible. His sleeve was ripped, there was dirt caked on his jeans, and he had a black eye. His eyes were dull until they met Akaashi’s. A small light sparked behind them as Kenma allowed Akaashi to gather him in his arms. “What happened?”

“I ran,” Kenma said softly.

“Where?” Akaashi asked, holding him at arm's length to look him over for more injuries. The black eye was the only thing he noticed. Kenma shrugged.

“Nowhere in particular. I didn’t want to risk being followed back here and getting Kuroo in trouble if the cops caught up.” Kenma explained, his eyes lids were beginning to droop. He was tired. Akaashi gave him a questioning look. “Oh.” Kenma realized he wanted to know he looked like shit. “I got mugged,” he said easily with a shrug.

“What?” Akaashi hissed.

“They stole my gear.” Kenma gave him a hint of a smile. “The bright side is, if the cops were able to trace my devices, they won’t be led back to me. Or Kuroo.” Akaashi couldn’t help the little laugh that escaped him.

“But what are you going to do for future races?” Akaashi asked.

“There won’t be anymore,” Kuroo said, relief radiating from him as he joined Kenma and Akaashi in the backyard. Akaashi wasn’t even sure he saw Kuroo move before Kenma was scooped up in his arms. Kuroo’s hand was buried in the back of Kenma’s messy hair, the other supporting his lower back as Kenma’s legs wrapped around Kuroo’s waist. “I was so worried…”

[Friday October 30th 12:00 || Kuroo and Kenma’s House]

Kuroo paced back and forth, his finger hovering over his phone screen. He just needed to press the button. The sooner he got it over with the sooner he could stop worrying. But what if Bokuto was mad? Kuroo groaned, ready to throw his phone across the room.

A heavy knock startled him. He blinked at the door. He hadn’t been expecting anyone, maybe Kenma ordered something? He yanked it open a little harder than necessary due to his pent up anxiety. He was surprised to see a nervous looking Bokuto with his hands shoved deep into his pockets.

“You have keys,” Kuroo said lamely. Bokuto shuffled his feet awkwardly.

“I know,” he gave Kuroo a wobbly smile. It made Kuroo’s stomach roll uncomfortably.

“Are you--”

“I need to tell you something,” Bokuto blurted, squeezing his eyes shut. Kuroo blinked.

“Okay,” Kuroo said slowly, stepping out of the doorway so Bokuto could come in. Bokuto was jittery.

“I’m quitting,” he said quickly and quietly. Kuroo stared at him for a moment, not sure he heard him right. Bokuto began to fidget under his gaze. “I’m not going to race anymore,” he added meekly, worried Kuroo hadn’t heard him. Kuroo huffed out a breath, body visibly deflating in relief.

“Oh thank god,” Kuroo mumbled, a hand on his chest. Now it was Bokuto’s turn to be confused. He tipped his head to the side and blinked owlishly. Kuroo grinned. “Me too.”

“You too?”

“Yeah,” Kuroo started Bokuto by pulling him in for a hug. “I wasn’t sure how to tell you, but I’m quitting too. I can’t keep putting Kenma in danger like that.” Bokuto nodded.

“Akaashi is worried about me,” he vaguely gestured towards his arm. Kuroo pat his shoulder in understanding.

[1.5 Years Later || Outside of Town]

Kenma frowned, leaning against the hood of Akaashi’s car. He’d decided his boyfriend was an idiot. He would say he was the biggest of idiots, but Iwaizumi actually married Oikawa, so he seemed deserving of the title.

“Why are they doing this again?” Akaashi asked, sitting in the grass just off the side of the dirt road his car was barely pulled off of.

“Something about letting their hair down?” Iwaizumi’s brow furrowed. “I have no idea.”

“You know,” Kenma gave Iwaizumi a look. “If you hadn’t let Kuroo borrow your bike, this wouldn’t be a thing right now.” Iwaizumi put his hands up in surrender.

“I didn’t know what he was planning when he asked.”

“Right,” Kenma rolled his eyes.

“On the bright side,” Akaashi chimed in, “they’re doing it out here alone. They could have roped us into a real race.” Kenma grimaced.

“It’s hardly any better.”

“Ready?” Kuroo’s voice was hardly audible over the sound of the three bikes purring to life. Bokuto and Oikawa shouted something in return, but Kenma wasn’t entirely sure what. He didn’t think he cared either. He squeezed his eyes shut as the wind swirled around him and their engines roared. They took off quickly, only their tail lights visible as they sped off into the night.

“If they get hurt,” Kenma glared half heartedly at Iwaizumi. “I blame you.”

“They’ll be fine.” Akaashi smiled softly and flopped back into the soft grass to watch the stars. Kenma eventually fell asleep in the back seat of the car while Iwaizumi and Akaashi waited quietly for the others to tire themselves out or grow bored of this.

After a while, Kuroo, Bokuto, and Oikawa finally stopped egging one another on into more races. Unsurprisingly, Oikawa did the worst of the three, having not been on a bike in far longer than the other two.

Kuroo yanked his helmet off, his hair a bigger disaster than it usually was. He grinned while Bokuto kicked up dirt around them in his own abrupt stop.

“”Kaashi!” Bokuto tossed his helmet into the grass as he flopped ungracefully into the grass beside Akaashi. Akaashi made a face, and tried in vain to straighten out Bokuto’s tousled hair. 

Oikawa pulled up moments later, ripping his helmet off and frowning at Iwaizumi. Iwaizumi huffed a laugh while Kuroo poked his head into the car to talk to Kenma.

“That’s not a pretty face,” Iwaizumi laughed.

“Shut up, I’m always pretty,” Oikawa spat back in irritation. Kenma rubbed an eye, not thrilled about having been woken from his nap, as he shuffled out of the car.

“Please stop lying to yourself, Oikawa,” he mumbled sleepily. Kuroo tried to stop the laughter from bubbling out. He really did, but his ugly cackle slipped out. Iwaizumi had a lopsided grin on his face as he dropped an arm over Oikawa’s shoulder.

“It’s different now,” Bokuto murmured, caught up in his own thoughts. He hadn’t realized he’d said anything aloud until a hush fell over everyone and they were all looking at him. He didn’t need to say what exactly was different, they all knew he was talking about racing. This was casual, much more fun. It wasn’t high stakes and they weren’t risking going to jail.

“Hey, Kuro?”

“Hm?” Kuroo raised a curious brow at Kenma. Kenma smiled innocently and stole the helmet from Oikawa’s arms.

“Take me for a ride?”

**Author's Note:**

> If I'm being honest, I started out being excited by this idea, but by the end I had sort of fallen out of love with this fic. I think that the end result really reflects that. Perhaps it's not as bad as I feel it is? Who knows. Regardless, thank you for taking the time to read my attempt at cyberpunk. 
> 
> This was part of the Haikyuu Cyberpunk bang. While I may have struggled, my partner didn't, and they created some amazing artwork to accompany this piece. Please check them out at the link below! 
> 
> Twitter: https://twitter.com/Tenticorn/status/1310128109346119680?s=19


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